Right Where I Belong
by SherlockBones
Summary: A story that started as a gift for a friend. Booth is having "just one of those days". Can a certain forensic anthropologist make it better?
1. Chapter 1

The alarm clock began chirping exactly at 6:15am, as it had been programmed to do, but it wasn't really necessary; Seeley Booth was already awake. It had been years since he left the military, but the Army Ranger turned FBI agent's body was still conditioned to get up at precisely the same time everyday. He lay in bed, willing himself to get up. Thunder boomed outside and rain pelted his bedroom window. He hated the rain; rain meant painfully stiff joints and a limited range of motion. After taking a severe beating over the years, his body had finally begun to retaliate, especially on days like today. Wonderful. Staying in bed was starting to seem like a better option. But there was work to do. Sighing heavily, he threw back the covers and rolled out of bed. His muscles protested and he had to stretch for several minutes before being able to move comfortably.

Walking towards the hall, he stopped to study the two sheets of paper thumb-tacked to the back of his bedroom door. The first was a list of names, 52 in all. The paper had begun to yellow with age, the ink at the top slightly faded, but the bottom section of names appeared to be more recent additions; the lastest being "Gormagon." The second was a much longer, newer looking list of names. He took a pen off the dresser and added a quick notation to the bottom of the second list before exiting the bedroom; Molly Briggs.

He performed his morning toilette quickly. If he wanted to stop by the coffee shop and the lab before going to the office, he'd have to hurry. Rain always made the normally bumper to bumper downtown D.C. traffic ten times more insane. Dashing back into his bedroom, he quickly threw on a clean pair of dress pants and a fresh white shirt. Having a sinking feeling that it was going to be 'just one of those days', he grabbed his "cocky" belt buckle, the flashiest tie he owned, and a pair of particularly bright striped socks. With one last glance at the clock, he finished getting ready, snapped up an umbrella, and flew out the door.

Entering the lab, he made a beeline for Brennan's office, stopping just outside the door to make sure she was actually in. He was in luck. She was seated at her desk, scribbling furiously on a legal pad, her brow furrowed in concentration. She was wearing the blue dress again. It was one of his favorites, but he would never verbally admit that. It brought out the lovely tints of auburn in her hair, and made her eyes turn an impossible shade of blue. He loved the way the silky fabric felt against the palm of his hand as it rested on the small of her back, the way it flowed as she walked. She normally wore it only for special occasions, like that time she had attempted to date two men simultaneously. After she had been dumped, they had gone out for dinner and spent the rest of the evening star gazing from the roof of her apartment. He smiled a little at the memory. Then he realized with a sinking feeling that she probably had a date that night. He knew that he shouldn't care about her dating misadventures, but he did. Putting on his typical grin, he poked his head in her office and gave a low whistle.

"Hey Bones, I brought you coffee." Brennan's head snapped up at the sound of his voice and smiled at him.

"Thanks, Booth." He crossed the room and placed the hot cup on her desk.

"What are you working on?" He casually tried to peer over her shoulder. Noticing his movement, she slid the paper under her desk blotter.

"My publisher needs the title for my next book by tomorrow. I'm sort of stumped though. You didn't come here just to give me coffee, did you? Do we have a case?"

"Uh, no. I…" he groped for an excuse, "I was curious what you were doing tonight. What say we get together after work for some Thai food and we can brainstorm on the title for a while." He smiled his usual charm smile and waggled his eyebrows.

"Booth, you know I don't like anyone to read my novels before they're published."

"I know, but technically I wouldn't have to read it. I'd just be helping you come up with a title. Completely harmless."

"In order to help me find an appropriate title, you would need to know the plot synopsis. That's more information than I am willing to release to anyone outside of the publishing company."

"Okay, fine. So how about we grab a pizza and watch a movie or something. I'm telling you, you need to watch Indiana Jones. You'd like it. He's an archeologist." He was desperate now.

"Forensic Anthropology and Archeology are completely separate fields. I also feel that a movie, unless it is a documentary, would not accurately depict the occupation. And besides, I can't tonight. I'm sorry, Booth."

"What, do you have a hot date or something?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Actually, I do." An awkward silence filled the office.

"Oh, uh, okay." Booth quickly backed up towards the door. "I guess I'll catch you later then." The sudden movement caused his already sore joints to protest painfully, and he couldn't help but wince. Brennan was already focusing on her list of titles again and didn't notice. Sighing, he turned and trudged towards the exit. Yeah, this was going to be one of those days.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for all the great reviews thus far. Here is chapter two. I should probably have at least one more chapter after this.

Upon arriving at the office, he was greeted with an unpleasant sight; a mini avalanche had taken place on his desk, knocking papers, pens, and his Bobble-head Bobby to the floor. With most tasks, he was good at getting things done; making the bed, grocery shopping, car maintenance, even dental appointments. Paperwork was a different story. Normally he had an investigation that gave him an excuse to ignore the towering stack of papers, but as no new cases had arrived overnight, it looked as if he'd finally have to catch up on his reports. Fantastic. Clapping his hands together, he stooped down and began reassembling his office.

The next eight hours were spent filling out forms, typing up his case notes, and throwing things at Charlie to get him to go away. He wasn't in the mood to field questions as to why he wasn't doing the case files with Bones like usual. Rubbing his eyes for the umpteenth time, he typed out one last sentence, saved his work, e-mailed Cullen, and finally shut down the computer. He hadn't totally finished, but it was good enough for one day. Hours of reading small text had started making him see double; it was definitely time to stop. Tossing on his jacket, he hit the lights and made his escape.

Feeling dejected and with no foreseeable plan for the evening, Booth made a detour on the way home to hit up the gym. Ditching his work clothes and lacing up his running sneakers, he jumped on the treadmill, cranking the speed up as far as he dared. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs threatened to give out. He knew it was a bad idea, and something he would definitely pay for in the morning, but something deep within pushed him forward. Switching to the punching bag, he pounded away his pent up frustration, his thoughts following the rhythm of his punches. Stupid rain. Stupid body. Stupid paperwork. Stupid Charlie. Stupid mystery date. Sudden anger flared in his chest, halting him mid-blow. Brennan had been on plenty of dates in the past, so why was he so bothered about it this time? His stomach chose that moment to growl angrily, stalling any further thoughts on the subject. Checking his watch, he realized that it had been several hours since his last meal. Deciding it was a good time to stop, he grabbed his gear and headed home.

Arriving on his floor, he sensed more than saw another presence in the hallway. A fragrance floated down the hallway to greet him; a gentle combination of lavender and lemon. He recognized the scent instantly, but tried his best to keep his hopes from rising as he picked up his pace. Rounding the final corner, he broke into the first genuine smile all day. Brennan was standing at his front door, her back to him. At her feet were two paper shopping bags. With his presence yet to be detected, Booth decided to stand back and observe. She rapped clearly four times, then dropped her hand, waiting. When no one answered, she knocked again, harder this time. Sighing, she turned to collect her things and nearly screamed in surprise, pressing herself up against the door for support.

"Booth!" she gasped, her face flushed. He was leaning against the adjacent wall, legs and arms crossed as he observed her. He laughed; a deep, throaty chuckle. She glared at him, which only made him laugh harder; he couldn't help it, she was just so darn cute when angry.

"Can I help you?"

"How long have you been standing there?" Her brow remained furrowed, but she was visibly more relaxed.

"Just getting home. You know, you really should be more aware of your surroundings." He unfolding his appendages and crossed over to her, still smiling.

"I am perfectly capable of handling myself. You-" She seemed to notice his gym clothes for the first time. "I'm sorry, I should have called first. Is this a bad time?" Her voice wavered in uncertainty as she stooped down to collect her things.

"Not at all. Whatcha got there?" he asked, trying to peer into the bag.

"It's a surprise. Are you hungry?" She smiled shyly, shielding her items from view.

"Definitely. How's this sound? While I grab a quick shower, you can do whatever you need with the food." Brennan nodded and moved out of the way, allowing Booth access to the door. He quickly let them in and hurried off towards his bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

While Booth showered and changed, Brennan flitted around the kitchen preparing dinner, humming quietly to herself. As she prepped, her thoughts wandered. The disappointment in Booth's eyes that morning in her office had caused a reaction within her she couldn't quite define. The pleading in his voice, the uncomfortable silence, his quick retreat; her words had hurt him deeply, but she couldn't pinpoint why. It was as if he needed her. Focusing on work after that had been quite difficult, and after a few hours, she called it quits. Walking out to her car, a light rain still falling, something clicked. Quickly grabbing her blackberry, she made a few calls and high-tailed it for the grocery store, a new plan forming in her head. Even as she stood on his doorstep, preparing to knock, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. She quite often got things wrong when it came to human emotion, but seeing his face that evening, how his eyes took on a mirthful glow as she stood glowering at him; she knew she had made the right choice.

When Booth exited the shower, he was greeted with another familiar smell so wonderful that he nearly started drooling. Quickly throwing on a faded pair of jeans and an old t-shirt, he padded out to the kitchen, searching for the source of the intoxicating aroma. Brennan was standing at the stove, her back to him and she worked, an apron tied at her neck and waist. He had to admit to himself that he liked this image very much; she looked so…domestic. Moving as stealthy as possible, he crept up behind her, preparing to peek over her shoulder when his stomach grumbled loudly, giving away his position.

"Booth", she exclaimed, spinning on her heel and whapping him on the chest with a wooden spoon, "get out of here! Go sit down. Dinner will be ready in a moment."

"But I'm hungry…" he whined, rubbing the spot where she had hit him. He gave her his best pouty face. It didn't work. Pointing at the living room, she mouthed the word 'out', eyeing him sternly. Defeated, Booth shuffled out of the kitchen and took a seat at the rarely used dining room table, which had been set for two. He peered at the tableware curiously. "Hey Bones? Where you get these placemats and stuff?" He called into the kitchen.

"I brought them from my apartment. I wasn't sure what sort of table linens you had." The woman thought of everything. She appeared around the corner moments later carrying a bottle of his favorite beer and a chilled glass. Yes, she really did think of everything. Setting them down in front of him, she scurried back to the kitchen to retrieve a large casserole dish covered in tin foil. Booth began lifting the aluminum before it even hit the table. His initial assumption had been correct.

"Mac 'n' Cheese?" He grinned so wide it was almost painful.

"I thought you liked this the last time I prepared it. I believe your exact words were 'I'd like to be alone with it.'".

"Yes, and that sentiment still stands." Grabbing a serving spoon, he piled his plate high and dug in, groaning in delight as the food hit his taste buds.

They talked about work, the squints, Parker, her father; light, neutral topics. Eventually their conversation wound down and Booth's curiousity got the best of him. "So…not to sound ungrateful or anything" said through a mouthful of mac 'n' cheese, "but what are you doing here?"

"I thought that was pretty obvious, Booth. You asked me to hang out tonight."

"Yes, and you-" He pointed at her with his fork, "shot me down. I thought you said you had a date tonight."

"Well, I" she fumbled, suddenly very interested in her placemat. He didn't need to hear anymore. She really had had a date that night. But instead of feeling angry, he actually felt sort of happy. She had cancelled her plans to spend time with him. That had to mean something, right? It wasn't even just their typical go-to-the-bar-for-a-few-drinks. She had made him dinner. And not just any dinner, his favorite dinner. She was really trying to make the night special for him. He decided to give her a break.

"Unless", he appeared to ponder something, "that was just a cleverly arranged diversion, so that I wouldn't find out about your surprise. You're pretty sneaky, Bones." He smiled.

"Oh yes, that was exactly my intention." She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and smiled back.

"So I guess that means that I'm your hot date then, huh?" He prodded, delighting in the blush creeping over her cheeks.

"I guess you could say that. Although given the temperature of your apartment and your recent shower, I would be very surprised if you were overheated. Unless, you are using hot as a way to describe ones physical appearance as being esthetically pleasing, in which case you would be correct."

"Thanks, Bones."


	4. Chapter 4

Hey Everyone! Sorry for the long delay in getting this story finished. I was trying to make sure it ended just right. Enjoy and thank you for all of the reviews!

When dinner ended and the dishes had been done, Brennan began to gather her things. "Going so soon?" Booth called from the living room, slightly disappointed. He wasn't ready for the night to end yet.

"I should probably get home. It's late and I-"

"Yeah, I know. You've got work in the morning and have to brainstorm on your book some more." He casually slid the DVD he had been holding back onto the shelf of movies, sighing heavily. He made his way over to the kitchen.

"You are correct." Booth bent down to retrieve her bags, despite her protests that she was perfectly capable of carrying them herself. He followed her to the door, where she relieved him of her things and turned to go. Booth casually leaning against the door frame, watching his partner walk down the hallway. As she was about to turn the corner, he decided to tease her one last time. "You know, I usually end my dates with a kiss". She froze in place, her body going rigid. He couldn't see, but he was pretty sure she was blushing again. "Logically speaking, we have already established that this evening is to be considered a date. It's only rational that we should behave as such." She turned to look at him, about to speak when he cut her off. "Don't worry, I was just kidding Bones", he gave her a little wink, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He pushed himself off the doorframe and went to shut the door. Just before it fully closed, he heard footsteps approaching his doorway doorway. Quirking an eyebrow, he opened the door again. She stood there studying him intently, her expression unreadable.

Dropping her bags to the ground, she rose up shyly on the balls of her feet, one hand resting lightly on his chest, the other slowly tracing the architecture of his face; she was trembling ever so slightly. Closing the distance between them, she lightly pressed her lips against those of the unsuspecting FBI agent. He hesitated, and for a moment she feared that she had made a mistake, but then he slowly began to respond. The kiss started out sweetly enough, but grew more passionate as each second past. This was no mistletoe kiss; it could not be laughed off later by comparing it to kissing a sibling. No, this was much different. Their lips were pressed together with such force that their lips ached, but neither one seemed to mind much. Booth growled possessively, one hand traveling to her head, his fingers entwining in her lovely auburn locks; the curls were soft as silk to his touch. The scent of her rosemary mint shampoo and lavender body wash were almost intoxicating at this distance which only further fueled his desire. He snaked his free arm around her waist, drawing her closer. She made a small sound of pleasure in the back of her throat as her hands closed around fistfuls of his t-shirt, her nails lightly scraping his skin through the thin fabric. This continued for several steamboats.

The kiss finally broke as they gasped for air, and they hurried to put a bit of distance between their bodies. She stared at the floor, her chest rising and falling in quick succession as she desperately tried to catch her breath, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. Booth was suffering a similar reaction and he had to lean against the doorway to support himself. Wow. Just wow. When he had woken up this morning, he wouldn't have been able to guess in a million years that this is where he would have ended up tonight; making out with his partner in the entranceway to his apartment. Nope, never would have guessed it. It took a moment for him to realize that she had moved her eyes away from the floor and was once again studying him intently. He was afraid to meet her blue-grey gaze; fearful of the anger and regret he would surely see in her eyes. This moment in time had been a dream come true for him, but years of experience told him that good things like this didn't normally happen to him and if they did, it was usually very short lived. Steeling himself for rejection, he finally looked up at her, but was surprised to see a sly grin on her face.

"Do you kiss all your first dates like that, Booth?"

"I…uh…listen," It was Booth's turn to flush a furious shade of crimson, "I didn't mean for-"

"You know, you never asked me how I end my first dates, Booth." It was her turn to rescue him from the brink of embarrassment. He quirked an eyebrow at her in an 'okay, tell me' gesture. "Well, if the man demonstrates great prowess in kissing, I usually sleep with him." At first he felt a bit downtrodden; Brennan went on a lot of first dates. He felt that old pang of jealously at all of the men who had come before him; who had gotten to touch her in ways he had only dreamed about. Then it dawned on him what she was implying.

"Would I fall into that category?"

"Based on the evidence, I'd say that's a very fair assumption." Booth's chest puffed out a little in pride. "We could consider this research for my book. My publisher keeps arguing with me that I need more scenes between Kathy and Andy. I was supposed to spend this evening working on my novel, after all. It could also be beneficial to yourself, Booth; intercourse is a great stress reliever and wonderful exercise." He could tell from that kiss that this was much more than just research for her book, but he'd let her slide for now; besides, she just inadvertently admitted that Andy Lister really was based on himself. "If you can keep up with me, that is." She added, still smirking as his ego deflated a little.

"Oh, you are so going to pay for that" he growled. His chocolate brown eyes turned deadly serious and his muscles tensed. Her eyes widened in surprise as he lunged for her. She let out a squeal of surprise as she was hoisted into the air; Booth scooping her up and cradling her in his arms.

"Booth! Put me down!" She squawked, playfully hitting his broad chest. Holding her firmly, he turned to walk back into his apartment, barely stopping to shut the door as he traipsed towards his bedroom with his hostage; Brennan's mirthful laughter floating down the hallway behind them.

"Yes, you are definitely going to pay for that." He entered his room, kicking the door shut behind him.


End file.
